Two Glory
by Tru Mel Meiko Mei Ling
Summary: Pat x Zwei. Yes, the title is supposed to be that way! Patroklos and Pyrrha live together, but while they're becoming more of a family, memories of Zwei distract and haunt him. A certain choice must be put into motion.
1. The Moon is Found

_**A/N: Yes, the title is supposed to be that way. It's a sort of pun (in my eyes, anyway!).**_

_**A/N: For plot reasoning (AND PLOT REASONING ONLLLYYY!), this story will contain a smidgen of Patroklos x Pyrrha hints. But this IS a Zwei x Patroklos fic. Ai'ight?**_

_**A/N: Oh, and since it's up in the air whether or not Pyrrha still has her malfested attributes retained or not after the end of the game, she's magically cured, okay? lol**_

_**oOo**_

Two Glory

_**oOo**_

The crisp glow of the sun eclipsed the forests below as it began its descent. Drops of the saturated light drizzled about the outline of the trees like tinsel. Faint caws belonging to the fowl inhabitants broke into the air before the beat of their wings left their echoes behind them. As they fled, small plumes floated down, whispering over the roof of a meager cottage made of wood and stone. In addition to the wildlife and marvelous landscape, this area was also shared by two individuals; a brother and his older sister.

Since reuniting for the first time since 17 years when their family was ripped apart, the twins Patroklos and Pyrrha had embarked on a new life together in the humblest of beginnings. They didn't have much, but they did have the bare necessities, few friends and each other. Or rather, the sweet Pyrrha had friends. The two persons Patroklos had any type of relationship with, outside of his sister, were Siegfried and Zwei. Yet, since he aided the forlorn knight to find his sister, he had no reason to cross swords or speak any words to him other than thanks. In the case of Zwei, of whom offered much more to the brash boy in terms of wisdom and companionship in his own way, the last that was heard of him was literally nothing. Pyrrha seemed to grasp remnants of memories of his fall after she stabbed him as a malfested. Other than that, there were no other hints or leads to his demise or whereabouts. Perhaps one day Patroklos would be able to thank the mysterious man, of whom he gave his trust to, properly or at least see his face again. However as of late, such a hope was just as hollow as the enigma's past.

Not being able to give the man a proper funeral spilled guilt throughout Patroklos's being, but deep in his heart, he believed that Zwei still walked this planet in some shape or form. And until the day arrived when they met again, Patroklos kept himself hard at work tending to the craftsmanship needs of the house while his sister did pretty much whatever she wanted. Pyrrha had taken it upon herself to assist her brother however and wherever it was needed around the house. Save for the two of them being siblings, the image of her being the perfect little wife would be fitting. For the moment, their food supply was a bit low. She would have willingly gone out to hunt or gather fruit from the wild, but Patroklos was so overprotective of her, he would always demand that he be with her at all times whenever she went out. Everywhere. If she was going to achieve this feat herself, she had to at least let him know where she was going.

"Brother did you hear me?" the eldest's feathery voice questioned. A concerned Pyrrha stood in the door frame of the room Patroklos dedicated to blacksmithing as his father had done before him. While he wasn't as skilled as his senior, he knew the basics of forging a decent weapon and was now sharpening a few hunting knives. Of course, over the sharp noises of the activity, he hadn't heard his sister at all. He didn't even notice her, which was a rarity in itself. Lately, his thoughts would carry him to places that not even he cared to go and he often became consumed by their cling. It wasn't that he didn't have a choice; he simply allowed his mind to be carried away. Maybe something was lacking in this new life that he just couldn't recognize yet. If Zwei or Siegfried had been near, he would bounce his troubles off of them for a solution, albeit reluctantly towards the latter. Between the two swordsmen, Zwei was the favorite. The youth found him the easiest to relinquish his fears to, for whatever reason. He wished the fallen fighter could have met his sister under better circumstances.

When she received no response, Pyrrha's eyes softened to meekness and she bit her bottom lip, "Brother..." she tried again, then raised her mousey voice while stepping further into the room, "Patroklos!"

All manner of smithing ceased; the hands that held the blade remained positioned at its sharpening wheel unmoving; the foot at the floor pedal rested on its heel. Patroklos himself didn't make a movement until his mind processed the name his sister spoke as opposed to just the sound of her voice. Like the first light of a candle, his senses and personality returned and he gave her his full attention, "Pyrrha, what is it? Do you need help with something?" he wondered calmly.

The girl managed a small smile from how sweetly her brother would address her, in comparison to the rudeness anyone else received, and shook her head cutely, "Um n-no. I... I just wanted to let you know that I was going to pick some berries for an ingredient in tomorrow's breakfast."

"You don't have to do that! I'll get them," Patroklos offered, already setting down the objects of his hobby and standing quickly to his feet. Again, Pyrrha shook her head. Her clothed arms crept behind her back and one knee kissed the other in embarrassment. At the rate he always volunteered to help her, she had begun to feel as if she always needed him for nearly all things in her life, no matter how small and menial the task. While that was something naturally families did, she was the older sibling and had to take control of her own actions at some point. And today she deemed as such.

"That's okay. You don't have to come. You don't know where the berries are, after all! I'll get them! I just wanted to let you know where I was going," she then paused; her muted eyes glided over his handiwork that she had interrupted, "Or maybe I shouldn't have bothered you at all."

"Bother me whenever you want, Pyrrha, I don't care!" he declared, stepping in front of her and enveloping her petite hands in his larger ones. It was only a few days ago when her body was still malformed from bringing forth the dormant malfested within her. Now any hints of it had dispersed, but for how long was uncertain. Instinctively, her minty gems glanced down to the protective gesture before returning to his intent gaze. He appeared as determined as ever, but a smidgen of an emotion she couldn't place rimmed his irises. It had nothing to do with her—or did it? Either way, she spoke nothing of it and listened as he continued, "And no long lost sister of mine is going out there by herself. It's after sunset!"

"But brother, I know how to defend myself! You're my family, not my chaperone!"

"What? Who said anything about that?_I_ have more experience so _I'll_protect _you_."

"But—but I'm the oldest!" she retorted, forcing her hands downward to release his grip for emphasis in her argument, "I should be protecting you! Wait a minute... This isn't about protecting! This is about food and I'm going whether you want me to or not! I can't let you starve!" With that, she about-faced and exited into the next room. A persistent Patroklos was already hot on her heels, "Come on, don't be like that! Let me go with you!"

"No!" she called over her shoulder.

"Fine, then I'll just come anyway!"

"Patroklos, no!" she suddenly ceased her walk and turned to face him with an annoyed stomp. A peppering of rose dappled her cheeks as the pout she gave made one of them puff out, "I need to earn my keep too. I can't let you do everything for me!"

"We're family, aren't we?" Patroklos questioned a bit too quickly; his distracted focus lingered on the luster of her glossed lips as he took into account how cute she looked when she got upset. It made him wonder if he looked the same way when he was ever angered or annoyed.

"Patroklos, I'm being smothered! I'm going out! And please, don't you dare try to follow me!" she warned, making her decision firm. Patroklos held his breath at his sister's new-found ferocity. Sometimes, he preferred her this way. But if they kept bickering like this, neither of them would be able to get anything done. So to end it, he decided to give her the upper-hand—or at least to make it seem so.

"Fine," he shrugged and briefly held up his right hand, "Then, I promise to not try and follow you into the forest after dusk where you could fall into a hunter's trap or anything can spring out of nowhere and mercilessly attack you."

Pyrrha narrowed her eyes and her full lips shaped into a a scowling frown, "Don't try to scare me! I've been working on that new move you showed me that you learned from mother. Yaaaaah!" she suddenly cried out, pushing out both hands as if stabbing with her sword, then added a swift kick that would render any man without proper "protection" to become weak in the knees. While the maneuver wouldn't ward off all attackers, it was well enough for now.

"Good. Then fine, don't let me keep you here. And don't come crying back to me if you get eaten out there."

"Oh ha ha," she mocked, then stuck out her tongue, "I'll be fine!"

"For now, you already are. I mean, you look like me after all..."

"..." She left him a dubious look before adorning her sword, shield, and a twig basket, "You are weird, brother, but you still have my love." And with that, she exited the cottage.

Upon her leave, Patroklos waited for about 2 minutes before dashing off to obtain his own weapons and made haste after his sister. Sure, he promised to not _try_to follow after her and he wasn't. He _WAS_ following after her; there was a difference. But he didn't take the exact same path she did. He instead took a much higher route.

OoO

"How can anyone see anything from in these thick trees?" he groused under his breath while he perched along the limbs of a tall oak tree, "There are too many leaves and branches in the way! How do the spies do it?" Granted, espionage was not his strong-suit and his agility was better fitted to him when on the battlefield instead of moving along the foliage. He had nearly fallen twice while trying to keep a close distance behind his sister before he eventually decided to test a new plan. Once his feet were back on the ground, he tip-toed after her pausing to hide behind the frame of the large trees every now and then and whenever he feared she would become suspicious. It wasn't like he was stalking her! He was protecting her! And nothing in his mind would change that.

OoO

Near the small cottage the twins had established as "home", the light footfalls of a woman clad in darkness and roses brisked over the dried leaves below. Her steps were almost weightless as she approached the house on her toes. A delicate wind sashayed over her, letting its fingers mingle with her hair and the beads of her costume. Taking this as a spiritual notification in solidifying what she had foreseen, the female turned her head towards the veiled windows of the house.

"The sun has gone and the moon chases after it. Black like clouded wine lined with sorrow; the merging of their paths is as misconstrued," she uttered to no one, "The moon must be found..." As her declaration dissolved into the night, she continued her secretive plight.

OoO

"This is boring..." Patroklos griped under his breath, watching his sister safely collect berries and fruits from a distance. Not one trap had been sprung and nary a boorish knave had sprung out of the blue and attempted to assault her. Well, at least she was alright. Maybe he had been overacting after all when he warned her about those things. He gave her one last long look before turning to leave. Not paying attention to his straying off the path before him, he stepped right into a ground trap that sent him falling into a pit. He swore harshly and loudly while figuring out what just happened. As he tried to climb out, a sudden flash of ivory and burgundy tinged with pink passed by the corner of his eye. It sounded as if something or someone had leapt into the trap behind him. Turning towards it, he completely froze as he found himself face to face with a contented Viola.

"The moon sleeps and has been found..."

"NYAAGGGGH!" Patroklos shrieked, leaping a good 3 feet into the air and grasped the mouth of the hole for dear life, "You creepy witch! You're still following me?" he shouted, scrambling to climb out.

"PATROKLOS!" The sudden shrill and breathy voice tore his attention from the rose-clad woman and bestowed it all upon his, fuming, sister. Hands firmly atop her haunches with a sharp frown teasing her face, Pyrrha marched over to him, "Were...were you following me after you promised you wouldn't?"

"Wait! Pyrrha! I didn't- OW!" he cried upon receiving a nicely delivered kick to the shin from her.

"I don't believe you would do this to me, brother! You promised!"

"Now wait just a-!"

"Do not blame him. This was meant to occur," Viola commented in monotone. Both pairs of eyes were on her at this moment. Being able to settle on her appearance more clearly now, Patroklos' expression faltered slightly at the very sight of her. The last time their eyes met within close proximity, he was still searching for his sister along with 'him'. Viola and Zwei were always together and having her in his presence without the swordsman pinched Patroklos' heart a bit. He really did wonder what happened to him. As if she could channel his guilty thoughts, Viola's orbs of blood drifted over to the ridiculed male and her pink lips parted, "I need you."

Patroklos' brows shot up immediately and his tone swiftly changed from distraught to cocky, "Need me? Sorry lady, but you're not my type."

"Never will I be," She actually managed a tiny smile in telling him that, "I was referring to need in a different sort. The moon is cold and lonely. It is a frigidness in which the sun's rays cannot warm. If you continue in your ways, there will be horror; your blood will drain like thin wine and your tears will not cease."

"Patroklos..." Pyrrha whispered; her tone indicated just how bothered she was by this woman's entity along with her encrypted speeches, "I... I've got a bad feeling. What is she talking about?"

"The truth must bloom. I need to speak with him immediately. Troubled moon, come with me."

Dumbfounded and not sure of what to do Patroklos tossed a look at his sister, whose worrisome features barely overshadowed how cross at him she was for breaking his promise, then set his eyes upon the woman who summoned him. What could he do? Perhaps it would be best to give Pyrrha some space. And the sooner he could figure out what Viola had to show him, the faster he could be rid of her and her elusive eeriness.

"Fine. Let's go."

_**OoO**_

To be continued...

Snippet of the next chapter:

"_The next thing he knew, he felt a yank at the back of his head before the hardness of the floor made contact with it soon thereafter. Through narrowed vision, he could identify Zwei's broad muscular form looming over him with piercing, searching, eyes."_

If u have the time to review, give me pros n cons, pleeease.

-Mel


	2. Two

_**A/N: Hopefully, there will only be one more chapter to go. But knowing me and my verbosity, that "one more" may split into "two more". **_

_**OoO**_

Two Glory

Chapter 2

_**OoO**_

The two of them advanced further through the thicket's core with silent tongues. There was much Patroklos wanted to ask the reserved woman, but whenever he opened his mouth to do so, he was rendered speechless and spoke nothing. The fortune teller, on the other hand, had many a word to disclose, but the time was not yet ripe for it. Her reasons for seeking out the boy were for her own interests as well as having substance on a much larger, global, scale. In her cherry-tinted crystal ball, she had seen of two outcomes dealing with him at its centerpiece. However, the causes to the two different paths, whichever one resulted in being embarked upon, were clouded. In order to clearly witness what was to happen, there was one thing that would trigger the more favorable solution. And that was what Viola had to witness with her own two eyes—if her assumption would indeed prove helpful in this situation.

"Are we there yet?" Patroklos groused quite audibly. The air had begun to thin since their trek led them near a mountaintop. In response, Viola addressed him with a bemused expression. A thousand phrases shaped her red eyes, none of which were to be voiced. Just then, a gruff cough engulfed an area not too far from their location. While faint, familiarity could still be plucked from it. Upon hearing the sound a second time, Patroklos halted in his steps and stood very still. His breath ceased momentarily and his pupils shrank to narrowed pin-tips. "...Is that... is that really..? It can't...?" he stammered; his mouth was moving faster than his thoughts could form a complete sentence. Without thinking, he ran ahead of Viola and climbed up the steep slope that led to an obscurely settled hut just off the path. The woman did nothing to stop him. A blank look was all she held before following after him at her own unhurried pace.

"Zwei! Zwei, are you there? Say something!" Patroklos called at the height of his lungs at the front door. His reply was another cough from the other side, followed by a deep gravelly groan, "How about 'could you keep it down?' I've got a splitting headache..."

An airy sound of awe released from Patroklos, unknown to him of how uninhibited his excitement truly was, and he burst through the door. The interior of the dwelling appeared far more condensed than the outside of it. There were different things scattered about the floors and a rather messy kitchen, but all of that swiftly lost meaning once the blonde's eyes found the man he had longed to reunite with. The pale-haired swordsman sat on the floor with on leg bent, boot planted atop the ground, with the other curved beneath it. His chiseled body was shirtless; comfortable form-fitting pants and boots adorned his lower half; both eyes were closed and his lips were drawn at a descent. Was it truly him? Unable to contain his surprise, Patroklos dashed next to the olive-skinned male and dropped to his knees, "Zwei! Zwei!"

Not used to being called so frequently, accompanied by such boisterous enthusiasm, Zwei recoiled slightly from the intensity and rubbed his temples,"Can't you listen? I've really got a headache! Keep it down, would ya? You may not be a dog anymore, but you still have your bark," he jeered; the last bit of his statement carried reference towards how the teen would blindly follow orders from those who eventually turn on him. While Patroklos ended up becoming a "hero", he still had his big mouth.

"You MORON!" Patroklos spat back, disregarding Zwei's gripes despite the other man's blatant discomfort about his headaches. He could apologize later. Right now, he felt as if he had every right to give the wiser male a little trouble, "You've been here all this time? And you didn't tell me?"

"Sorry, kid, I didn't get the memo," Zwei commented dryly, cracking his neck.

"Why aren't you with Siegfried?"

"..."The darker male said nothing momentarily. Ethereal orbs of teal slid over to the frantic youth beside him. The boy's eyes were wide with shock, yet sharp with concern. Curls of subdued blonde coiled about his face and enhanced his features in ways that made every brash statement from his mouth more tolerable. And, was he pouting? It must not have been on purpose. He and his sister were twins weren't they? They must share some of the same expressions naturally. For a split second, Zwei pictured Patroklos in his sister's battle attire, hair accessories and all, standing in the same timidly passive way she would with her sword. The thought brushed a flicker of a smirk across those browned lips but in place of a laugh, he just answered the question, "The captain isn't in control of me, you know. After your malfested sister stabbed me in the back and I fell from that tower, I figured the old man would consider me dead or that I just didn't want to be found. And that's exactly what I was..."

"? Dead?"

"Not wanting to be found, genius!" Zwei corrected snappishly, "Do I look dead to you?"

"You look a lot of things to me right now so you don't want me to answer that! I still want more explanations from you!"

Zwei sighed; his sound a rich blend of coarseness and fluidity, "Let me guess, how did I make it, right? How could I survive both the fall and the wound, right?"

Patroklos nodded, frowning lightly. The contrasts in their maturities was made highly evident this instance. But the bond they exhibited told of far more. "Well, yeah! For starters, anyway. Tell me!"

To this, Zwei gave a sly, toothy grin in which caused the blonde's eyes to expand even more. "You-! You're-!"

"Yeah. Not human. Ever hear of werewolves, Patroklos?"

"Of course I have but—then you have cursed blood? Are you a malfested too?" he accused, gripping the hilt of his weapon.

"Now, hold on! Quit jumping to conclusions, would you! I'm no malfested but my blood IS cursed. The reason is irrelevant. It's who I am and I'm gonna deal with it. Anyway...When I fell, I summoned Ein to help soften the landing. He couldn't hold me for very long, so I ended up taking a few scratches and sprains along the way after he dropped me. I healed myself once I hit the ground; Viola found me; and we moved up here temporarily."

"The two of you _are_ always together..." Patroklos seethed briskly absentmindedly; the words trespassed his lips as he uttered them. His hands curled into fists without his realizing. Zwei noticed, but made no mention of it. He didn't have time to either. A new stream of inquires sprouted from the teen with emotion-driven vigor. Every sentence may as well had been strung together as one from how quickly he burned through them, "Then, why are the two of you holed up here by yourselves? What's wrong with you? Why did Viola even bring me here?"

While Zwei appreciated Patroklos' company, he hated being barraged with so many empty questions and finally called for help, "Ugggh... Viola!"

"Yes, this is my doing," she coolly confessed while she literally glided into the house, seated atop her crystal ball. Legs crossed and hands placed in her lap, her ivory curls feathered over the decorations at her chest as she tilted her head thoughtfully, "As I mentioned to you before, there was something that I must see through to its end." Her gaze then trailed over to Patroklos, who regarded her presence with a rather complex expression. Jealousy. Confusion. Misunderstanding. She accepted all of them together. They would aid her in this current role, "The moon grows colder."

"..." Zwei inspected the young woman while his mind sampled her words, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she approved with a fragmented smile, "I shall be observing."

"Ehh right," Zwei agreed doubtfully. He then returned his attention to Patroklos, who had stood to his feet and began looking around to get his sight off of that female. With the blonde's focus divided, Zwei examined him closely, studying the way he moved; breathed; his scent, "... … … Hmm..."

"How long did it take for you to get here? Did _Viola_help levitate you?" the boy resumed, making sure to say the woman's name as sarcastically as possible. It was no mystery or secret about how he felt towards her and he certainly would continue to prove it. A faint snigger left Zwei and he shifted his weight to a more comfortable position while remaining seated, "Of course she didn't. I made it here on my own. Who am I to burden her with something like that anyway? In any case, you've asked enough questions. It's my turn to return the favor. But since you're here and already standing, would you mind grabbing me the sandwich from the pail in the kitchen?"

"What?" he spun around, eyes glinting with disbelief, "Do I look like someone's wife or wench? Isn't that what she's here for?" he sneered, cocking his head over at Viola. Expressionless, Zwei gazed over at the floating woman while she shared not a word in her own defense. She and her companion were only comrades and nothing more. If the time came where she had to dispose of him, she would—in her own way. At this moment, her interests contained the interactions between the two males before her. This was of the most importance. While not for any personal gain, she had to watch. When she gave nothing for Patroklos to go along with, he tossed his glances between the both of them before throwing up his arms and storming into the small kitchen. He set his sword-sheathed shield along a wall and fetched the food from the cold water within the bucket. The sandwich was wrapped, of course, and consisted of large slabs of stale bread on either ends of salted meat and aged cheese wedges.

"Here's your meal, your highness," he drawled, dropping the food in Zwei's lap before rejoining him on the floor. He trusted the man enough to not need his weapons at his side. Zwei would have scolded him about this, but he figured he'd cut the kid some slack for now. He actually appreciated the company, even if it was assisted. But that was fine; he knew that if Patroklos knew he had been alive, he would have visited a lot sooner. Zwei would have done the same to him.

"Thanks. So how have you and your sister been doing?"

"Fine. She's been getting ahead of herself; gotten a little braver. She doesn't want me to protect her as much." Just like the times when they were still getting to know the other, Patroklos' thoughts freely tumbled from his lips to Zwei's ears. He respected this man far more than he realized.

"As quick as you are to jump into things, I don't blame her," Zwei added with a chuckle, unraveling the sandwich's trappings, "And you?"

"I-" he trailed off. His attention had become snagged by the prodding Viola hovering atop her orb, staring intently at the two of them conversing. Patroklos grimaced, "Okay, THAT...is making me uncomfortable..."

"That" referred to either Viola, her actions, or possibly both.

"Viola..." Zwei began, lowly.

"Yes."

"Do you mind?"

"Yes."

"... You know what I mean!"

"And again, yes. I must see this."

"Could you do it from someplace else? Please?"

"Somewhere we can't see you, maybe?" Patroklos chimed in bluntly.

She paused, considering it, "Yes. Very well." With that, she floated to the opposite side of Zwei. Not liking having someone so closely behind him, Zwei groaned and turned towards her. As he did, he found himself eye to eye with an upside-down Viola. Immediately, his eyes narrowed, "Some privacy, please, Viola? Although it does amuse me to see you really do have a sense of humor."

"Wine loses its understanding as it ages," she countered in drab monotone. In response, both Patroklos and Zwei glared at her in their own ways. After a few seconds of dense silence, Viola surprised them both with a small pretty smile, "I see. Very well. I will return," she offered. Her eyes then glided over to Patroklos, "Do feel free to not behave."

"What?" the blonde inquired, but Viola was already gone- she floated to an upper loft in the hut and perched herself amongst the hay and straw for the roofing there. Now it was so that she could see them, but they weren't as aware of her. It was good enough.

Then, there again was silence.

"..." Zwei glanced over his food to occupy himself while waiting for the blonde to continue. Yet, now that he was "alone" with Zwei, and sitting so closely to him, the young hero wasn't sure of what to disclose about himself. What could one say to the individual he thought had been lost forever? Should he mention how he wanted to search for his remains to give him a respectful burial? Or perchance he ought to bring up how estranged he felt after possibly finding a true friend in the older man, but never having a chance to explore its depths? Yeah, like that would ever happen. He was far too proud to ever let Zwei know any of that. He could never tell him how bothered he was from the other's absence in his life so suddenly. He was grateful for his sister and loved her greatly, or at least the idea of having a sibling to protect and care for he loved. They both wanted a family of their own, but had no interest in others of their opposite sex except with themselves. However, she was of his own blood and it was forbidden to intermingle that bond no matter how easy accomplishing it would be. It was a strange thing and Patroklos had no word for it. If he couldn't understand what that meant, how would he ever confess to himself, or Zwei, about how deeply his respect ran for him? He hadn't even known him for very long and already thoughts of this man had rooted themselves in his memory? Was Patroklos that desperate for companionship towards someone who could understand and clash with him on a regular basis? The puzzlement disturbed him and not having a solution right away enabled vexation.

"Here."

Patroklos blinked slightly; his lashes accented his hooded lids while his gaze lined the floor. It was then he came to notice that he was sulking and Zwei had seen all of it, "Huh what?" he wondered, blinking again before looking in Zwei's direction. The enigmatic man chewed his food casually, holding the sandwich out to Patroklos to offer him a bite. Appalled by such common food, the blonde curled his lip at the display and scooted away from the monstrosity, "Keep that thing to yourself."

Zwei's brows raised. Just to make sure of the rejection, he held the sandwich near Patroklos' face again, "Sure you aren't hungry? You were looking pretty depressed like you haven't eaten in days."

"I said I didn't want-!" he stopped suddenly once view shifted to his mentor. The man must had been eating with abandon; there was a tiny piece of bread stuck to the corner of his mouth. Completely without thinking, Patroklos leaned close, closed his eyes, and touched his lips to the spot briefly. As he pulled away, the tip of his tongue peeked out and pilfered the crumb from Zwei's face. It all occurred so quickly, Zwei stared owlishly at the younger, albeit still chewing slowly. For the moment, Patroklos felt nothing out of place and swallowed the morsel of bread. It wasn't until his eyes met with the aquamarine opals, that were not of his sister's, did he recognize what he had just done.

"... …. …. … … …!" Humiliation painted his face in its scarlet hue; his teeth clenched; his pupils shrank. He did NOT just kiss Zwei, another man, did he? Apparently, he did. It happened purely out of habitual instinct! He had gotten so used to removing bits of food from Pyrrha's face that way, as a considerate brother, that when he saw it happen on Zwei's, he acted purely on autopilot.

"^&*&^#^*&y#*&$&*^&%%r%^!" Patroklos shrieked in a foreign tongue, launching himself to a stand and then doing his best to scramble away from his crush. No! That was wrong! Zwei wasn't his crush! He wasn't a 'his' anything! He was a guy! Another guy- who had received a nice peck on the mouth from his former pupil!

This was it. Patroklos' life was over. And the most shameful and horrifying part about it was-

-_he__ actually __wanted__to__do__it__again_.

Maybe! His head was a jumble of nonsense.

"Is that Greek?" Zwei questioned, sounding very lackadaisical, hardly looking over his shoulder from his meal, "And I thought English was hard enough..."

"I JUST KISSED YOU, YOU &^#&%#& MORON! &^^#! IDIOT! Or haven't you noticed?" Patroklos sputtered. He rubbed his mouth harshly with the back of his hand while attempting to point an accusing finger Zwei's way. Why wasn't he acting at least the slightest bit disgusted? Yes, Patroklos had thought of Zwei as very smooth and collected, but certainly not this much! Why was he taking such a situation so well? Patroklos failed to understand.

"I noticed," Zwei shrugged and took another bite of his food, "But you were only doing something you've done with your sister, right? You two are all alone out there. Makes sense to me."

"I. **KISSED**. YOU. There **IS** no 'oh yeah, that makes perfect sense' HERE!"

"Haha...Just how close are the two of you?" Zwei knew the blonde was being serious, but he couldn't help but find his dramatic behavior funny. To Patroklos' dismay, the young hero blanched. "-WHAT-"

"Hmmm," Zwei lifted his chin while he recalled a distant recollection, "The great warrior Achilles and his dear friend Patroclus. How did that one story go... ? Oh yeah. Explicitly close those two were... Come to think of it, didn't Achilles use the name 'Pyrrha' once when he disguised himself among women?"

If looks could kill, the harshness Patroklos depicted would have sliced through the swordsman thrice by now, "Take that back!"

"Or you'll what? Pick up your weapon and strike me? You know you can never beat me...not even in a hundred years," the lycan surmised, facing away from the teen.

"!" Patroklos would be lying if he mentioned the thought of readying his sword and forcing Zwei into a duel hadn't crossed his mind several times for his licentious comments. How dare he make such assumptions! Thankfully, he was so blinded by the awkwardness of the moment he didn't even bother to consider why in the world his beloved mother gave him and his sister such controversial names in the first place.

"One day, I will surpass you." And he meant it.

"Wonderful," Zwei drawled dispassionately, then motioned for Patroklos to rejoin him without a glance, "Come back here, would you."

"..." The word 'NO!' held fast to Patroklos' tongue, but for some reason, he could not speak it. Instead, he started to feel rather daring. He figured that perhaps Zwei was testing him. Well, he certainly wouldn't disappoint. His mischievous eyes trickled across the floor before nestling along the curves of the other man's bare back. The muscles there flexed, sensing that they were being visually tasted. The turn of Zwei's head followed suit, viewing the slender warrior with unreadable eyes. The corners of Patroklos' softened. To him, Zwei represented danger as well as compassion. There was a fire within him that burned mightily when certain things he deemed important and worthy were in front of him. In this moment, Patroklos swore he could see that flame; it beckoned to him, and he boldly allowed it satiation with his presence.

A comfortable silence then merged between them. Patroklos took proud steps over to Zwei, keeping his form fixated on the darker man's visage. Of course, by doing so, he wasn't watching where he was walking and missed the small step that separated the kitchen from the rest of the hut. A beautiful gasp fluttered from him, that sounded very similar to something his sister would make, and he fell face first into Zwei's lap. His arms flailed, knocking the sandwich out of its devourer's hands. Amongst the confusion, Patroklos thought he heard a shout from Zwei, then a growl. The next thing he knew, he felt a yank at the back of his head before the hardness of the floor made contact with it soon thereafter. Through narrowed vision, he could identify Zwei's broad muscular form looming over him with piercing, searching, eyes. He was like a beast—a wild untamed beast—clamping his arms to the floor, pressing a knee into his midsection with bared teeth near his throat. He was positively primal and Patroklos had the will to contend with all of him.

"Ah—What-" the blonde stammered, then quickly recomposed himself and properly equipped his tongue with a retort, "Like being rough, do you, Zwei?"

"You have no idea what rough is," he replied smoothly. Too smoothly. And oddly, Patroklos laughed. Here he was with a half naked man pinning him to the floor, sprinkling exhales over the exposed skin of his neck and he was _laughing_?

"What have you got to prove, anyway?"

"I have no dinner now, thanks to you and your clumsiness... Got a thing for falling in other people's laps, Patroklos?"

"Got a thing for being a prick, Zwei?"

"You're one to talk."

"I tripped! Yours just happened to BE THERE. So get off of me!"

"Make me, little boy," The taunt resonated sonorously in his throat. The flash of an expression passed over Patroklos' face that was too quick to read. Then, his brows lowered foxily, his eyes narrowed and a haughty smirk took his lips, "Hmph. I'd be careful with words like that if I were you..."

Zwei's eyes contracted threateningly, but there was humor in them, "Someone's got jokes..."

"Don't tempt me..." he muttered, both a little louder than he intended Zwei to hear as well as a bit too softly that it sounded like a secret longing. Whether the hidden meaning was understood or not was undecipherable on Zwei. His eyes rapidly traced the planes of Patroklos' face, taking in the conflicting gaze that furrowed his blonde brow.

"...You owe me a sandwich," he mumbled.

"I'll owe you more than that," he teased with a cocky grin. It would seem the expression was contagious as Zwei's lips sported an amused curve of their own.

"But you're part wolf aren't you?"

"Werewolf," he corrected flatly, indicating just how much he "_loved_" talking about that subject.

"A dog, then."

"What did you say..."

"So you should have no problem eating it off the floor."

The edge of Zwei's mouth twitched, "Do you like that face of yours, Patroklos..."

"I certainly do, Zwei," he returned hotly with a teasing smile, "My sister does too, but while she's pretty cute, I'm the real looker."

"Oh, _really_..." he mused, the even timbre of his voice dissolving into an almost sensual growl. A wild blush claimed Patroklos' features. A broken sound caught in his throat and he bit his lip to prevent it from escaping.

This was bad!

Somehow he managed to get an arm free to press his palm to the middle of Zwei's face as a barrier between his vulnerable embarrassment, "Get OFF of me!" he demanded, attempting to push the swordsman away. In retaliation, Zwei grasped his wrist and positioned both of them above the youth's head. There was no way Patroklos was getting out of this one of his own volition. But that certainly didn't stop his mouth from shouting every obscenity that came to mind at Zwei.

"Most interesting..."

Both males halted what they were doing and cast their eyes towards the prying Viola directly next to them. There was a hint of fascination glimmering in her wine-hued orbs while she sat atop her crystal ball. Her hood was lowered and her platinum locks wavered with each intake of breath. She was excited, for whatever reason, the two others weren't entirely sure about. Puzzled, they exchanged glances, then immediately separated. Patroklos was the first to rise to a stand, while dusting the awkward situation from off his clothes, with Zwei gradually following suit. The lycan observed the sputtering boy announce his leave and dash out of the hut. Then, seconds later, he returned to gather his forgotten sword and shield, then repeated his flee.

With Zwei and Viola now the only remaining, the taller turned towards the rose-clad maiden with uncertainty on his tongue, "What was all that about with you..."

Smiling playfully, which Zwei assumed was supposed to be an expression of triumph, Viola unmounted her perch and summoned it to hover between her hands, "Clouded wine mirrors the moon and may block the sun from its rise."

"Huh?"

"The unclear segment of my visions reached a milestone whilst the two of you tussled. I believe that now... the fate in which he chooses will become a more favorable one that all of humanity and those with tainted blood can appreciate. He must be kept closer."

Closer, huh? Zwei was fine with that, "Well... … knowing him, he'll be back. He's too stubborn and foolhardy to turn his back on me now."

"Good." With her piece stated, the woman took her leave. Once more in solitude, Zwei carried his gaze to the ceiling in thought. Instinctively, his fingers reached up and grazed the spot where Patroklos "kissed" him earlier. It was nothing, right? Just an easy mistake and misunderstanding. However...

No. There was no point in considering otherwise.

What would he do with domestic baggage anyway? He didn't have the time for it. But if Patroklos did want to spend more time with him, he would not object to it. He wasn't completely certain of how he was viewed through the eyes of the younger male; his scent held far too many emotions to filter out just one.

He could figure all of this out at another time. As of now, it had to have been some time after midnight—and fatigue was the last thing on his mind.

OoO

Thar be a lemon afoot next chapter! And special thanx to Shakira for her song "Did It Again". Had it playing on loop for this chapter!

And yes the "wild untamed beast" bit is a pun...a nod to the part of the title to Z.W.E.I.'s theme.

lol there was a time when I typed "Amy" instead of "Viola" before of course deleting it hahaha

Oh! I forgot to mention the bringing up of the name Pyrrha in ref to Achilles is from the story "The Iliad" in which Patroclus' very best and very close friend, was disguised as a woman. Because of his bright/light colored hair the women there dubbed him Pyrrha, getting the word from "pyrrhon" that means flame-colored.

Yes dear Sophitia, why DID you give your CHILDREN these names?

To be continued

-Mel


	3. Glory At What Cost?

A/N: Guess what time it iiis! If you're squeamish with the imagery of bodily fluids...well I don't know what to tell you!

OoO

Two Glory

Chapter 3

As if gifted with the winged feet of Hermes, the troubled blonde fled from the mountains into more familiar territory. In contrast to his dexterity, he could not run fast enough to escape his rioting emotions. The confusion he had once held, entwined with the desire to see Zwei again, had become swiftly dulled in favor of humiliation. It was careless enough that he had kissed Zwei while his mind was faintly on his sister. In addition to that, Zwei's reactions, or rather lack thereof, both vexed and stumped him. Strangely, being watched by Viola's wandering eyes didn't bother him as much as it should have. What did, however, was not understanding what he was to Zwei. Why didn't the man reprimand him for what he did? Why wasn't he upset? None of it made much sense to Patroklos. Because he was never one to often speak on his feelings, he preferred to never bother with them nor to admit them to himself. Whenever he couldn't simply just pick the problem apart, it always meant he would need to face his inner turmoil much sooner than later and he could not stand it.

Before he reached his and Pyrrha's new home, Patroklos double-checked the area his twin had been in previously. Once he made sure of her absence, he returned to their cottage. But when he got there, it wasn't exactly the inviting sight it usually was. Not a speck of light warmed the windows to welcome his return; the windows, like the shaded night, were drenched in opaque shadow. Where was Pyrrha? Whenever she retired to bed while he was out hunting nocturnal animals, she always had at least 2 candles lit for him to see from afar. Why were things different now? "Pyrrha!" he shouted; the weight of his concern forced his tone to falter. With haste, he burst inside the dwelling like a strong gale. He received no answer. After fumbling around and tripping over things to locate a candle and some withered matches, he managed to get a steady light going. He called for her again; he briskly scouted each room but found no trace of her. Where was she? He would have feared the worst if he hadn't caught the note resting on the counter in the kitchen. In his frantic search, he had overlooked it. On quick footfalls, he made a beeline for the message and snatched it up.

The long, swooping strokes of her handwriting stood out to him immediately; as his eyes consumed the letter, his lips dimmed to a line.

"Dearest Patroklos,

Yes, I am still upset with you, but I hope you're able to fix yourself a few meals while I'm gone. There should be plenty of food for you. Oh...didn't I tell you? I wanted to meet with that nice lady again who helped us. Ivy, I think? I wanted to meet these Lexia and Xiba people you've told me about who helped you, too. So, while you were gone, I decided on my own to go find Ivy because I know she lives nearby. Right? But, don't you dare come to follow after me again! Your older sister demands it! I'm STILL mad with you! I love you brother, but I'm not ready to face you again yet.

"I'll come back in 2 weeks. Take care, Patroklos.

"Love, Pyrrha"

And that was the first and the last of the note he saw. The very next second, it was crumpled and tossed in with the other rubbish. Because she was still bothered, she took it upon herself to go have a sleepover with a near stranger who just happened to be nice? What kind of sense did that make! More importantly, how could she leave him alone like this? Without her or anyone else around to speak to he'd-

He needed to do something to keep himself occupied. He needed to dismantle something and piece it back together again. He needed–––––well it didn't matter now. For the moment he could do without his sister; and Zwei. After a short bath, he slipped into bed and dreamt of ...nothing. One has to be able to sleep before they can dream. Since he couldn't seem to, he found something to keep him busy until sunrise. The disassembled segments of an imported gold watch encircled him like tiny decorations along his bed's linens. He lost track of the hours he imbued in tinkering with it. Somewhere between the cusp of twilight and the sun's ascent, he thought he heard the howl of a wolf, or similar creature, reverberating across the horizon.

OoO

The new morning bloomed anew. Patroklos smithed and hunted during the day to further avoid his conflicting thoughts and unanswerable feelings. But of course, keeping his mind muddled in everyday tasks could not keep his soul from thirsting for more contact with a particular swordsman. As the days passed, Patroklos sought him out. They would talk, reminisce and spar with swords fashioned from wood. Viola continued to remain watching from the background; however, she was entirely ignored by Patroklos. Throughout all of this, the younger did a fairly commendable job of keeping his secrets locked away. That is, until the last day of the first week when Zwei finally asked what bothered him, the admittance of having a problem finally emerged. But all the details attached to it, especially those pertaining to Zwei's affiliation with the boy, were not mentioned. There was talk of Pyrrha and his fears within his training along with admitting he needed help. The type of help was not specified on purpose. Whether Zwei was aware of this or not was unknown; his expressions were unreadable as the influential male listened with patience. He had been aware that Patroklos was holding far more inside than he let go. He could identify when the young hero was troubled and preferred for him to be ready to converse about it. Time was really all Zwei felt he had and he would willingly put it into the blonde, being his aid and friend. Patroklos, on the other hand, didn't know what it was that caused him to always feel that he could tell this man almost anything. He would be honest with what tumbled from his mouth and somehow Zwei would almost always just—understand.

Once the day dissolved into the hush of night, Patroklos shut himself in his bedroom—and manually ebbed his unspoken worries with the strokes of one steady hand. He didn't participate in this every night, but often enough to numb his mind and force himself to sleep. He committed this act to the thoughts of the things that he was grateful for, and that made him happy, on a regular basis. Blacksmithing; sparring; having someone to talk to like Zwei; being part of a family with Pyrrha even if it was a broken one; and harboring great skills as a fighter were only a few of them. It wasn't so much the ideas and imagery that came with it that he caressed his flesh to, but the action itself; the technique of it. It was natural for calming the soul and that was exactly what he needed. Each morning after, he would continue on with his daily business normally.

On the 11th night of his "sibling exile", Patroklos bathed thoroughly from a rather intense sparring session with the man he looked upto nearly as much as his father. Of course, like all the other times beforehand, that creepy woman was there to drink in every movement they made. Although she was watching at a distance again still made him uneasy and for good reason! That didn't make him less annoyed by her nagging presence, but, it was in the past now. Shirtless, sock-less and clad only in translucent boxer briefs, Patroklos padded into his bedroom. As soon as his back touched the mattress, a heavy wave of fatigue crashed upon him and he sighed. His body felt so drained and worn that he was surprised he was even able to keep his eyelids raised. In fact, he could have already fallen into a heavy slumber and not have realized it. After reading a passage from a good book he probably would have ignored if not for being alone, he placed it on a stand near his bed then crawled beneath the sheets. He laid there silently on his back, thinking of what to do. Well, he may as well "try" to sleep.

On whispered fingertips he drew invisible lines across the surface of his chiseled abdomen and progressed lower. The slender digits toyed with the rim of the garment that contained him before seeping inside and demanding hold of what slumbered there. A wet hiss siphoned from him at the touch alone. Something so simple, he was able to find fascinating. Mesmerized, his gaze aimlessly trailed upto the ceiling as his lids fluttered shut; blissfully, he took in sensations, inch by inch, as they grew in his hand. Committing such a deed calmed him and he allowed himself a few seconds, unmoving, to relish in it.

Soon, he then relieved himself of his undergarment and freed his throbbing flesh to the still, crisp air around him. A glimmer of moonlight flickered along his exposed length and pooled at its tip. As Patroklos sent his grasp into motion, the soft luminescence disappeared and returned with each stroke. In time, the slow, calculating movements quickened enough to the point of where Patroklos' hips had begun to rise off the bed to match the rhythm in his hand. A string of gibberish chanted from his tender lips; his tightly closed lids shuddered amongst crescent-shaped lashes as if he conflicted with both containing and encouraging his release.

While his cares were scattered and his priorities misled, he didn't notice the pair of eyes that had captured sight of him through the window. Immersed in his euphoria, he failed to take heed of the same entity as it crept inside the room. Only the screech of a weathered floorboard forced the victim to cease all and gain back his sense. In shadow-laced eyes, the intruder watched the blonde with a keen leer as the hero's weapon was promptly secured into his hands, "Don't move," he managed to barely squeak, his voice cracking a tad. The frustration of being interrupted when he had been so close to a victory burned in his glare, while challenge showed about his features. The end of the sword glinted under the glaze of the moon, emphasizing his assertion. Its mild glow sparked flashes of light over his burglar's shaded form. Bits of familiar hues and a chiseled tattooed chest cast awe in the younger's eyes and his hold on the weapon slackened. In complete disbelief, his delicate features pinched, "Zwei?" His eyes rounded, doubling in their astonished girth. His throat immediately turned dry and, this time, his voice did squeak, "It is you, isn't it?"

The male in question resumed his silence a moment longer before taking a revealing step into the moonlight. His cool eyes flickered with mystical evanescence born from the celestial globe above. His broad form appeared as if he had been dipped into halves of inky shadow and otherworldly radiance. There was no mistaking the marvel of his exotic identity. However, to visit this time of night, let alone sneak in through the bedroom window, was very strange for him. Patroklos found himself beholding this amazing man intently and held his breath as Zwei drew his to speak, "Yeah, it's me," His tone was crisp and direct.

"But-!"

"And put that thing away!" he commanded halfheartedly, rolling his eyes to advert them elsewhere. Instinctively, Patroklos sheathed his sword and rested it near the nightstand. He then sat attentively on the bed, in all his oblivious nudity, " What is it? Did something happen? And why did you come here so late?" Patroklos wondered, asking the latter lowly with hint of accusation. Zwei sighed heavily, his shoulders sloping to prove his "joy" when faced with so many "Patroklos questions".

"I came here because of you..." the suave swordsman began, turning casually towards the younger. The second he did, an annoyed grunt reached his lips and his attention darted to another part of the room, "I said to put that thing away."

Patroklos blinked; his confusion quickly swapped places with frustration, "Are you blind?" he began, making elaborate arm-spreading gestures although Zwei could not see them, "I don't have the sword in my..." he abruptly trailed off. Once downward glance was all it took for him to understand immediately. He was still naked! His face swiftly flushed, causing his grousing expression to appear somewhat cute. His ears grew hot and he cupped his offense in both hands to show some modesty. He had embarrassed himself yet again! Could he just not escape humiliating himself in front of this man? Then, a thought played over him and as fast as it arrived, his unease faded. What was the point? Why bother to try and cover up now? Zwei already saw him...like this. And honestly, for some reason, he didn't mind his nudity as much as he probably should have. With a haughty air, Patroklos moved his hands away and held his arms akimbo, "So! You said came here because of me, why? Did you forget something?"

"No," Zwei corrected, bemused; another thought and meaning was attached to his answer, "There was a crescent moon out tonight and I wanted to see it. ...Needed some space to think," he paused, and slowly began to reposition his gaze on the blonde again, "but I couldn't because I could smell your scent from miles a–– put some CLOTHES on!"

"There's no point! Just don't stare!" Patroklos shrugged. Impishly, his mouth curved into a cheeky grin, "Got something to be jealous about?"

Zwei didn't say anything initially, but a forced chortle found its way to his mouth, "Don't fool around with what you can't deal with, kid."

"I'm no kid. But you can see that for yourself," he emphasized, swaying his hips tauntingly from side to side. To his delight, Zwei's expression shifted to one of challenge. Although this was a rather awkward situation, it was also becoming quite fun! "Oh, I saw plenty when I got here. You gave a reaaaal good show back there. Maybe I should have waited a little longer to let you finish."

Patroklos gaped at this little tidbit; his childish teasing was suddenly misplaced by exclamation, "Were you watching me the whole time?"

"No. But I certainly got an..." he gratified the subject with a quick downwards glance, "eyeful. No wonder I could smell you from so far away..."

"You-! I don't even-! Idiot!" Patroklos snapped, chucking a random trinket from his nightstand in his voyeur's direction. Zwei didn't bother to move and simply watched the object bounce off his taut abdomen and clatter onto the floor, "Nice. Looks like your attack failed. Care to get dressed now?"

"..." Patroklos frowned at the fallen object. It just laid there, mocking him. His eyes narrowed. How could Zwei utter something of such maturity and just brush it off? Patroklos couldn't understand why Zwei was so nonchalant in all of HIS abashing moments? It wasn't like Zwei was the one caught pleasuring _HIM_self! Every thought with that suave man in its cross-hairs caused Patroklos' eyes to latch onto him with irritation. Gradually, they traced along the outline of Zwei's defined chest and looped along the lunar design etched there. He was both amazed and envious of this man's physique. His spiteful eyes continued upwards in a glower, but once he witnessed the bizarre expression plastered on Zwei's face, he couldn't help but burst out laughing. The handsome man's features stiffened, "What? Is there something on my face?"

"That look you just had! What was with that?"

"There's a naked guy in front of me, on his knees, in his bed, with his legs spread wide open! Why do you THINK? Here!" Zwei finally gave up, removing his jacket to throw at the shameless youth. And to add more strain to the tension in the room, Patroklos caught the item with his teeth. His hands rose behind his head and he struck a rather flamboyant pose. At the end of it, he opened his mouth to let the garment drop atop his endowment like the rung of a hat rack. From this unnecessary and outrageous display, Zwei cast his eyes around the room in exasperation and threw up his arms, "I don't believe this clown..."

"Fine! I'll wear it if it'll make you stop whining!" Patroklos jeered, already draping the fabric across his thighs without bothering to tie it in place. Well, it was covering him, wasn't it? "Can you sit next to me, now?"

The thunderstruck look Zwei shoved the blonde's way blatantly revealed how much sense he was not making this moment, " 'Now'? You never asked in the first place! What do you mean, 'NOW'?"

"Okay. You. Sit. Here," he clarified, poking a finger into the mattress on each syllable. The older curled his lip at the offer, but ultimately shook his head and entertained the invitation. As he sat atop the bed, his muscular body slouched forward and visibly relaxed. An exhale of breath unweighted him and he ran his fingers through his hair. Secretively, Patroklos drank in all of this man's behaviors with large and curious eyes. He had little idea as to why he was feeling so eager, more than usual in the presence of this warrior, to watch and observe; to study. The two of them had been getting along well in the past few days, haven't they? Patroklos didn't have any other males to chat with. Perhaps that was part of the reason as to why he felt so drawn to the alluring lycan at this moment. He just wanted to bond—regardless of where it––or Zwei for that matter––took him.

"Okay, so starting over... you're here because of my..." Patroklos purposely trailed off to encourage a filling in of the blanks. While what was unfolding now was quite ridiculous, Zwei chuckled lightly and turned his head towards the younger, "Your distinctive smell. But on top of that, I wanted to let you know I won't be able to train with you three days from now. I've gotten a tip from Viola that one of my 'relatives' might be nearby."

" 'Relatives' ?" he echoed, sitting on his knees, "have you found your famil-"

"No. I meant someone else like me."

"Oh," Patroklos promptly understood, "When will I see you again?"

"What?" he laughed briefly, "You make it sound like I'm never coming back. I can't die that easily, you know."

"But... what will I do? There won't be anyone here to talk to until Pyrrha gets back..." his distressed thoughts betrayed him in the shape of a whisper. Something that was meant for him only was openly heard by his companion. It all just slipped out! Ever since he was compelled to question the one he formerly took blind orders from because of Zwei, Patroklos always had a way of easily opening upto the enigmatic male with little effort. Additionally, in this case, he did so without realizing.

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?"

"But that isn't the same!"

"You're right. It isn't. I could always leave right now, y'know..." he concluded, beginning to rise. And as he expected, he wasn't able to completely stand when a hand gripped him by the wrist. "Zwei, wait!"

With a heavy exhale, the lycan rolled his eyes, "Let me guess...you're afraid to be left alone with your thoughts, right? Too scared to face them? Gonna run away if I leave?"

"I'm no coward!"

"Says the guy who fell face first in my lap and then ran from me like some terrified animal."

"That was-! I-I did-!" Patroklos sputtered, loosening his grasp.

"Hahaha yeah, that's right! You DID!" Zwei reversed, leaning down to press both palms and a knee to the mattress. They were equally leveled now. Patroklos' eyes narrowed at the sudden "invasion" of space and lifted a high brow, " Are you making fun of me, Zwei...?"

"Are you playing dumb, Patroklos?"

"That's it!" the blonde suddenly exclaimed and gave his mentor a push. A hearty laugh coated the room as Zwei let himself fall back first atop the bed. Like a fly to honey, Patroklos found himself above Zwei with both his legs on either side of him. The forgotten jacket covering his modesty was barely secured; one more quick movement and its shielding would crumple. Apparently for Zwei, he was still too busy laughing to take anything of the other as a threat. In fact, even Patroklos lost track of what happened next when Zwei had grabbed him by the shoulders and flipped him onto his back. Satisfied, he gazed down at the youth; an amused rumble flourished in his throat, "I like this position better."

Always the one to have a compliant ready in some form, Patroklos tried to wriggle free, "Get off, Zwei! You're heavy!"

"Oh yeah?" he dared, whisking a few stray strands from his eyes with a quick quirk of of his neck, "What's wrong? Too much for you?"

"N-never!" Patroklos felt his body began to warm; he was sure that if he didn't find some way to move away from Zwei, his entire face would be dusted with a rosy blush. Of course, that was the least of his worries while he was mostly without clothing. Zwei's teasing and the position they were in were gaining a rise on him; and if the keen man had taken notice of it, he wasn't revealing any evidence of such, "Ohh yeah? First you wanted me to stay, and now you want me to leave? Which is it?"

"Stop twisting my words around! Idiot! You're REALLY heavy!" he reiterated while attempting to push Zwei with his fists against his chest, then his palms. He dragged his hands downwards until he reached the hem of his pants where a thatch of silvery curls resided. The way he went about it was covered with him trying to paw around for a way to make Zwei let go. He was also stealing a feel of him. From the way Zwei reacted, Patroklos thought he might be ticklish. He didn't test this, however.

"Then get me off, little man."

Patroklos smirked darkly without his own knowledge of it, "Gladly," he obliged, suddenly groping Zwei's tightly clad crotch in a fierce grip. While the "attack" didn't necessarily cause any pain it did erect, however, surprise. It also gave Patroklos the advantage he needed to push himself up and force Zwei down onto the bed. But Patroklos didn't bother with straddling him this time. Instead, his hands went to work lowering Zwei's fashionably unfastened pants. Any chances Zwei could have had to decipher all that was happening were stolen from under him as Patroklos retrieved the captive flesh in one hand and seized its length with fervent licks. From being so exposed, Zwei sat up immediately. What had started out as a sort of game between them was starting to bend into more taboo ordeals.

"Hey-!" he called out, grasping Patroklos' shoulder to attempt to move him away. In protest, the blonde tossed him a determined gaze before plunging Zwei's growing size into his mouth. As with any man, that decimated any and all tries to cease what was happening for a good few seconds. A long hiss broke into the air and Zwei shut his eyes briefly. As he gained a hooded stare, he eyed the display between his legs wantonly, "Patrok..los..." he mouthed, too shocked to breathe voice into the name. Suddenly, his body jolted and he clutched the linen sheets with a raspy growl. Patroklos had bitten him and none too softly. His head bobbed briskly; a finger and his thumb ringed Zwei's flesh as its tempo matched the ferocity of his mouth. From how persistently the blonde expressed his enthusiasm to appease him, Zwei gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the bite was just a mistake, of which it was until it happened again—followed by a third time. At the fourth, Zwei's body reacted on its own and his hand lashed out to grasp a handful of blonde curls at the back of his head. A surprised sound sparked from Patroklos, which soon evolved into an airy gasp as he was roughly pulled away from his task. A thick string of saliva threaded between his mouth and what it once enveloped. Knotted beads of it glinted in the moonlight like droplets of crystal. Confused, Patroklos peered up at Zwei with perplexity swimming in his eyes.

Who could resist that face? The enigmatic man held in a breath before having it voiced into words, "You...you're... you're doing it all wrong..."

"What?" Patroklos wondered, wiping the excess moisture from his mouth with the backside of his hand. Zwei's expression faltered for just a second by witnessing this. Here he was in an odd and highly spontaneous predicament with an impassioned "holy" warrior and all he could utter was 'You're doing it wrong'? How about 'We shouldn't be doing this' or ' Now isn't the time' instead? Patroklos smiled slightly while he watched his elder's eyes rapidly wander this way and that as he processed what was to occur next. When no other response was given, Patroklos took it upon himself to reclaim the neglected endowment; with a swirl of his tongue about its tip, he led it downwards, slurping loudly as he did so. A gruff sound emitted from Zwei and he cringed out of shock and unfamiliarity. It seemed like Patroklos wanted to redeem himself; he started off promising, but then his pesky teeth got in the way again. Thankfully for him, his body held a higher tolerance for pain than most humans.

"Don't bite so much. Do it lightly if you have to, not hard enough to rip my skin off," Zwei scolded. Orbs of green flashed upto the speaker above them. A "hmph" was all Patroklos had to offer in reply without slowing his performance. Even with taking Zwei's advice his ministrations were still, at best, terrible. Being a male, one would imagine him knowing how to properly pleasure another more appropriately.

"That's enough," Zwei decided; with both hands, he directed Patroklos away from his nether regions and rose to his knees on the bed. An animalistic bellow entered the air and Zwei gently pushed Patroklos down into the sheets. He didn't bother with any instruction. One hand curled around the blonde's length while he dipped his head to dapple kisses over every immediate inch of skin near his target. Occasionally, his tongue thrashed out to taste and tease Patroklos' inner thighs, the heavy globes further north, as well as the base of his pulsing manhood. A trickle of nasal moans and high pitched mewls wavered from the blonde while his hands balled into fists at the sheets, "Mnn... Zwei..."

"...This is how you do it..." he informed, whispering against the tepid flesh and causing Patroklos to squirm and pant with anticipation. Zwei eyed the vulnerable state of the male beneath him and smirked faintly. It was amusing how responsive and sensitive this boy was. Soon, both lips pressed against one side only to engulf part of it before traveling upwards. From there, Zwei suckled at the tip, then led his mouth in descent. A long, deep moan found purchase atop Patroklos' lips. New to the sensations, he began to move his hips upwards. Deeming this as a distraction, Zwei rested a hand atop Patroklos' belly and rubbed it soothingly. Instinctively, his haunches relaxed and he took in every lick, every suckle and each soft bite while a secret spot was attended to. He had never told Zwei that his abdomen tremendously relaxed him. How did he know exactly where to cater to him?

Of course, that thought shattered into nothingness when Zwei encircled his fingers around around his flesh and stroked it in rhythm with his slobbering mouth. In addition to that, he trailed one digit down lower and merely tickled at the puckered entrance there. With a rather feminine cry, Patroklos arched his back with both his fingers and toes curling. "No! Stop! Zwei! I'm going to-!"

"Then come already..." Zwei murmured, his mouth full; the vibrations of his husky tones was the missing piece that lured Patroklos to his ultimate. As his expulsion erupted, Zwei moved his mouth as far down as he could muster to amass a plethora of his seed. That of which could not be contained, seeped over his lips, down Patroklos' size, and glided over the lower contours of his body. As the blonde wheezed to catch his breath, Zwei aligned the end of his tongue with the apex of Patroklos' endowment. He then opened his mouth to allow the rush of the white liquid to cascade down the length it sparked from. From feeling the warm spillage, Patroklos fidgeted uncomfortably and tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but exhaustion claimed him and he remained on his back. In a exasperated voice, he questioned, "Whatever you're doing, I hope you're cleaning that up, right?"

Zwei smirked, giving his lips a wet glaze as he licked them,"Just relax."

"Huh?"

"What, don't tell me you thought we were done yet..."

"Hmmm?" Patroklos' eyes widened. The smug look on Zwei's face only broadened; he circled a palm over the abundant substance and slathered it along Patroklos' length to gain a lather of it in his hand. Not used to this type of feeling, let alone the strange moist sounds that went along with it, Patroklos writhed in discomfort, "Do you really have to do that..." he drawled in a voice that was dipped half in a whine as well as gruffness. He hated feeling unclean. Zwei glanced to the youth's contorting features, stifling a laugh. Patroklos was even fussier in bed than he was on a regular basis—and that was saying a lot. His behavior was just like a high-maintenance child. "Yes, unless you want to start screaming from being unprepared with lubricant," Zwei continued, collecting a generous amount about his fingers and beginning to prod its destination, "You can't be entered otherwise..."

This time, Patroklos DID sit up, and with mind-bending swiftness at that, "YOU'RE USING **THAT** AS LUBRICANT?" he emphasized, pulling a repulsed expression, "And last I checked, I'm pretty sure that's an exit!"

Zwei's face held the opposite and he leered blankly up at the other, "Well...I can't exactly use water...or spit. You're new to this, aren't you?"

"OF COURSE I-So what if I am! Apparently YOU aren't!" he retorted; the envy was obvious. But Zwei seemed to find it amusing. Instead of agreeing or refuting the accusation, he inched half of one finger in. The glorious shriek that sprang from Patroklos' mouth was pleasing in its pitch as well as it being a way to shut up his bellyaching for a while. When the digit was pulled back to a fingertip, Patroklos' entire body shuddered and a low whine parted from him. While it felt different, and unclean to him, Zwei's recede disappointed him.

"Does it hurt?"

"Itfeelsweirdanditsunsanitary! Get out, get out!" the blonde griped, taking hold of Zwei's hand with both of his. Although his lips declared otherwise, his eyes and body language suggested that he was curious, almost desperate, for more. While the conflict was apparent, Zwei still needed to be sure. He neared his face to his other's—close enough for their noses to brush, "Patroklos..."

"..." He shook his head, not wanting to clarify himself.

"I need you to be honest here... Do you want me to stop so you can wash up or do you prefer I kept going?"

"..." He didn't give a verbal response but the intensity of his grip slackened considerably. Then, as if the weight of the world perched atop his head, he nodded; barely, and quite slowly. His decision told much in its single gesture. It was then, in this new moment, that the two individuals viewed—genuinely looked at- the other without any hesitation or hindrance. This mutuality was pure; delicate. It was one of those situations that would do no good without a kiss. A real kiss. Gently, Patroklos' lids fluttered shut and he lifted his chin. To both honor his candidness, as well as wanting to return the notion, Zwei met his full lips to his captive's. It was an awkward embrace; neither of them moved; their lips remained stilled.

"Zwei..." the hint of that name slithered between them. As their mouths embraced, Zwei's finger had entered within Patroklos for a second time—with the younger's hands clasped around it as a possible guide. Before long, that one finger doubled, and then tripled; Patroklos' mewls, gasps and calls of his lover enveloped the room and encouraged, dared, more. Once Zwei was positive Patroklos wanted to accept the next step, he kissed the boy affectionately. The tip of his nose, his lips and his forehead were gifted with compassion and trust. Gently, Zwei coaxed Patroklos to lay on his belly with his haunches raised. He quickly undressed, save for the moon-embellished belt that hung loosely around his waist. With experienced fingers, Zwei glided them through the remnants of the ivory essence that lingered along the bared white skin and coated his own length with it. He again urged the youth to relax. At a snail's pace, Zwei tested the taut ring with the apex of his size, listening for its effect in blonde's fluctuating octaves. Gradually, he managed to slide inside halfway before pausing to await acceptance or dismissal from Patroklos. Once he had completely immersed himself within the velvety confines, Zwei instinctively began a moderate pace. Patroklos stifled a moan by ramming a fist between his teeth to bite down on as he tried to get used to the new feeling. An overwhelming fullness engulfed his senses and stretched at his walls. His entire body grew hot and any former unsanitary thoughts were much forgotten. Through hazy perception, he thought he felt Zwei lean down; the brush of his chest and the cool surface of his belt buckle rubbed against his back. He could feel the slither of a hand slide under his abdomen and tug him possessively nearer. A streak of carmine kissed his cheeks. Zwei was more compassionate than he imagined. The whisper of Zwei's mouth lurked over the back of his neck, sending a teasing tremor throughout his entire body and causing a shuddering whimper to adorn his lips. He actually thought the gestures extremely dear and thoughtful—at least he did until the the pressure of something clamping down on his neck obstructed all the previous imagery. "Ouch! Not so rough, Zwei!" he murmured, his words nearly slurring together. But it would seem that his other did not hear him and continued to claim that spot on his neck between his teeth. An alluring and carnal sound rippled from Zwei and somehow, a different image played into Patroklos' head. In an instant, his wit had been restored, "You are not... keeping me in place like some...dog in heat are you..."

Zwei gave no reply, but his thrusts slowed slightly. Like some dog in heat? Come to think of it, the position, along with how he was holding Patroklos and biting him to secure his placement, were the same behaviors a mating canine would exhibit.

"Don't have sex with me like some dog...!"

"I'm no one's dog.." Zwei retaliated deep in his throat, accenting his words with an alluring rumble.

"You're doing a poor job of refuting that, you know..." Patroklos retorted, muffled by the pillow.

"Hmph..." Zwei huffed. Eventually, he released his teeth's grip and drove deeply into the blonde hero. Mixtures of surprise and euphoria were stripped from Patroklos in pitches that would make any woman blush. Dare anyone think the sounds to be considered cute. Wanting to see the face that matched the lewd noises, Zwei removed himself from the gripping heat just to reposition his other. Not knowing about what he was upto, Patroklos gave a pitiful whimper that soon malformed into a sultry growl from no longer being filled. Zwei chuckled at this and subdued his partner with a full kiss. While it was distracting, and acceptable, Patroklos needed much more than that. His actions began to turn a little rugged; he took hold of Zwei's pelvis with one hand while his other curled at his short locks. Impatiently, Patroklos bucked his hips against Zwei's and rubbed their erections together.

The very thrill of such primal behavior enticed Zwei and his instincts took precedent, matching Patroklos' ferocity with plenty of his own. Their mouths collided; their tongues bathed in the fight of dominance while rivulets of it trickled down to their chins. In the heat of the delectable distraction, Zwei took hold of Patroklos' length and stroked it briskly with intricate skill. A glorious moan was granted for his deed that audaciously demanded more. His chest heaved; his head was turned to the side; matted curls clung to his forehead, adhered by sweat. Zwei was the first to behold the erotic visage of a vulnerable Patroklos beneath him. The sight was much to rare, much too sweet to overlook. Yet, if he continued to stare, he would not finish. Reluctantly, his tanned lids shut and he eased himself back within the body that yearned for him. A victory was sought, and through their entanglement, the both of them would strive for it more than the other until they were of mutually equalities in carnal desire. Movements were made without any second thoughts; nothing was inhibited; everything was let loose, now. The bed slid; Patroklos' cries cut through the night; his hands clawed at Zwei's back while the taller pressed the younger's thighs to the mattress—delving into him rapidly.

"AHHH! AHHHhhGGGhhhh ZWEEIII! ZWEI!" His voice twisted into heights unfathomably shrill for any man to have thought possible. His lucid cries urged Zwei to achieve a much more feverish pace. Every shriek, every scratch, every movement from Patroklos enhanced every muscle of the lycan to tighten to its most absolute fiber. Before long, Patroklos had retired from slicing his nails into Zwei's back and began latching his hands onto solid objects around him: the bed, the sheets, the wall, brick-a-bracks from his nightstand, anything. It took Zwei a good 3 minutes to realize that some of those objects had actually _became_ projectiles. Patroklos had literally thrown "the book" at him. Everything, that was within his reach and wasn't nailed down was hurled his way and if that wasn't the most bizarre case of demanding more sex, who knew what was anymore!

"ZWEI! I'm-I'm-!" he strained.

"So am I-!"

"Dontdoitinside! Pulloutpullout!"

At the very last second, Zwei freed himself from the taut depths. Biting his lip with a raspy grunt in his throat, he relinquished his seed at the same moment Patroklos expelled his own essence. Splashes of ivory intermingled in their flight before sprinkling their descent all over the white skin that awaited it. Although Patroklos was succumbed to his contribution, Zwei had only met with a crescendo and had more to release. He also lacked control. Several spurts decorated Patroklos' face; two of them just missed both his eyes. As luck would have it, just as he was about to scold Zwei for his lackluster aiming, a stray shot actually did hit him square in the iris. Of course, he yelped and immediately sat up, cradling his watery eye with both hands, " &^ # &*^# IT BURNS! CAN'T YOU LEARN TO AIM RIGHT? ^ ^ % ^!" He was practically blubbering like a baby from how much it stung.

Witnessing this, Zwei sighed. He laced his arms around Patroklos' shoulders and hugged him gingerly to assuage him, "Let me see it..."

"...Nngh...!" the blonde groused. With great reluctance, he moved his hands away and glared at Zwei with one eye. There was something humorous about this and Zwei tried not to laugh. A chuckle fluttered in his throat, however, and he reached for his discarded jacket to wipe the liquidy essence off Patroklos' face. While he could have done it himself, the teen decided to not complain for once and allowed the treatment. After Zwei finished, he exhaled and shook his head, "You're such a baby..."

"And you're a dog."

"So were you once."

"That was in an entirely different context!" Patroklos returned hotly.

"So...?"

"So you can't refute that!"

"And you're still mouthy as ever. Just so you know, you sound like a girl when you come," Zwei jested, lifting a brow for emphasis. All the color drained from Patroklos' face and his brows knitted together, "WHAT-! Been with that many, have you? And NO I don't!"

"Actually, you sounded like a lot like your sister whenever she gets attacked..."

"Shut. UP," Patroklos interjected, cupping a hand over Zwei's mouth. He did NOT want to think about that, let alone his sister at all right now. All he wanted was to go to sleep – something he planned on doing before Zwei's trespassing. Although they did end up copulating, Patroklos had exhausted himself even more. In somnolence, his hand slid from Zwei's face, down his chin and over the ridges of his chest. There it halted and his head rested atop it.

"...Falling asleep in my arms?"

"Maybe," the blonde replied sleepily.

"'Maybe'?"

"Zwei..."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he spoke, barely audible.

"For what...?" His voice lowered to match the thinning of Patroklos' own tones. Only, he didn't answer right away. He took his time choosing what to say. A faint smirk dressed over his lips and he absentmindedly snuggled further against Zwei's chest, " For not howling...thanks..."

"Hmph," Zwei snorted and the two of them shared a short round of laughter. After it dimmed, and Patroklos had finally gone to sleep, Zwei gazed down at the male in his hold. One hand glided to the back of his head, nestling in the downy curls, while the other rested at the small of his back. Carefully, Zwei laid the boy onto the bed. He nonchalantly brushed some of the stray knickknacks aside that had been tossed around in the heart of the moment and covered the mouthy hero in his linen sheets. Then, amongst matted bangs, he leaned down to place an airy kiss on Patroklos' forehead. In an ancient tongue, he disclosed his real name; a faint smile enhanced his dashing features as he heard Patroklos utter it in his sleep. Then, Zwei was gone.

OoO

The serenade of chirping birds lured Patroklos out of his deep slumber. His lashes stirred momentarily before lifting. Glossed mint revealed themselves to the ceiling above; his body hardly moved, save for his slow steady breathing. What happened last night? Why did he feel so exhausted? With a groggy groan, he forced himself to sit up and immediately hunched over in a slouch. A palm touched his forehead as tried to remember. Only fragments resurfaced, but the main remnant that clearly flashed before his mind was...

"Zwei?" His body instantly straightened and he feverishly scanned the room for any hints of the exotic man. There was no trace of his jacket or other articles of fabric that belonged to him. As a matter of fact, nothing was out of place. The nightstand was still detailed with every item neatly as if it hadn't been disturbed at all. The book he had read also seemed untouched. Dumbfounded, he threw the covers off and leapt to his feet. Even the trinket he tossed at Zwei that landed on the floor was missing. His sword and shield were still placed on the right side of his bed, opposite of the window in the event of any criminals trying to sneak in. He distinctly recalled retiring it to the left side of the bed when Zwei entered. Why didn't any of this make sense?

Was it all just a dream; an illusion?

All at once, Patroklos' features became stormy and his hands balled into fists. It couldn't have been. It wasn't possible. He couldn't process this; the misconstrued pieces just would not fit. He needed a bath anyway. That should take his mind off of it for at least a second. Glancing down, he realized that he was still partially clothed in his own undergarment. Hadn't he taken it off when he–––or had he fallen asleep before then? Greatly troubled, he swore loudly to himself as he gathered a fresh pair of clothes and entered the washroom.

OoO

Near the hut secluded in the mountains, Viola occupied herself along one of the stoney paths, swaying her body in a type of dance. Her hips rolled; her hands scribed invisible incantations along the sky. The pink orb that was often with her floated close by. Gradually, its darker hue blossomed into a cherry tint. Zwei, still inside the dwelling, polished his sword. Just as he was about finished, Viola obtained a vision and poked her head through the back door, "He comes."

"Hmm?" Zwei wondered, looking up in her direction. At that moment, the front door flew open. A disgruntled Patroklos literally darkened the doorway. His wavy bangs shielded his eyes, casting his features in a vengeful shade.

"Patroklos?" Zwei questioned. What was he doing here? "It's a little early for a spar. You didn't get enough rest yesterday, did you? Are you still sore?" His concern was genuine, and unfortunately dual sided. This was not on purpose, however. Still, the very sound of his voice visibly bothered the youth and he unsheathed his sword, pointing it at his elder, "We're having a duel, right now!"

"We are?"

"SHUT UP!" he shouted, already charging towards Zwei with his weapon raised at the ready. As he neared his opponent, Zwei gave no motion towards making a move. In the last second, just as Patroklos swung his blade, the lycan sucked his teeth and nonchalantly looked away. There was a flash of sparks as Patroklos' sword clashed with one of the mighty claws of E.I.N. The minion pushed the teen back, then delivered an upwards diagonal swipe. His clothes became slashed, but that didn't stop him. He needed answers and fighting through to get them was all that made sense to him. Maybe he if fought while giving his all, the remorse that weighed on his heart would dissolve or be broken. While Patroklos seemed to have a purpose, even if it was a misguided one for attacking him, Zwei on the other hand had no idea why this guy was fighting out of the blue. But not knowing did not mean that he was going to back down. He'd knock some sense and respect into that impulsive boy one way or another. Something was bothering him and Zwei was going to find out exactly what that was. He made sure every hit was thorough, blunt and staggering; it was the best method to persuade Patroklos to start talking, "I'm waiting!" he announced, taking form in a pose that invoked his lupine subordinate to do a horizontal slash. Patroklos, in his rage, ran right into it and ended up spinning to the floor face first.

Something needed to give. This wasn't working. He was getting overpowered badly. Vexation devoured him and forced himself to his feet, ready for another attack–or beating. He couldn't stand it; his emotions had flared to their highest height and if he didn't relieve them, he felt he would burst. He didn't care if he were in the wrong; and he certainly didn't care that Viola was there listening in from somewhere. All thoughts that ailed him needed to be relinquished, "Why did you leave me last night?"

"Leave?" Zwei repeated, his brows raising in disbelief, "Can't a guy go outside for a walk when he wants to? What's that got to do with you? And what do you mean by 'last night' ?"

"Don't play games with me, Zwei! I mean it, tell me why!" He needed to know; he had to. With a battle cry, he attempted to catch his other off guard with a surprise critical edge. Sadly for him, it was blocked and he was punished for it. As he was hit with a hard slash, Zwei accented the blow with 'something extra', "I didn't see you last night! That would be encroaching both your and your sister's privacy!"

"Pyrrha wasn't home!" Patroklos shouted more to himself than his opponent. If Zwei didn't know Pyrrha was gone, that would mean that he hadn't stopped by the night before. It would prove that he and Zwei didn't merge in unity after all. It all felt so real, how could he just deny it ever happened? While he pondered this, his will to fight dwindled; Zwei took full advantage of it. He summoned E.I.N. to launch the blonde into the air before ultimately getting slammed down. A shrill, and pained, shriek tore from Patroklos, but he managed to shakily pull himself up. There was no way he was going to win, both his conflicts nor this bout, at this rate. Zwei needed to put an end to it if Patroklos could not, "And speaking of your sister, from the way you're taking hits, you're staring to sound the same way she does!" From that, Zwei took it upon himself to rub more salt into the verbal wound and imitated the many cries he had heard Pyrrha make while in battle in the highest and most feminine voices he could obtain.

"...!" That was the one thing Patroklos didn't expect to hear. The comment caused him to freeze, rendering him entirely vulnerable to a good boot to the stomach from Zwei. The youth doubled over and crumpled to his knees. His weapon clattered against the floor and he hung his head. How could Zwei say something like that after claiming to never have seen him last night? Had he really just dreamt the whole thing? He refused to believe or accept that. He couldn't; he couldn't do this; the creeping feeling of humiliation gnawed at him far too much.

"Ready to talk, yet?" Zwei stepped over to his opponent, gazing at him with sharp studious eyes. What was Patroklos going on about? Had something happened between the two of them he had no idea about? Or maybe he had forgotten? He didn't know what was going on. "Hey..." he started. His voice sounded husky and inviting. When Patroklos lifted his eyes to face the other, he found the taller male down on one knee directly in front of him. "..." His words were then caught in his throat. Zwei was this close to him–this–close–but there was nothing there as it was last night. Giving up, Patroklos turned his head away and closed his eyes, "Tell me the truth...did you come to see me or didn't you? You said you weren't going to be able to train me for three days. You said you were leaving to find others with cursed blood like you," he paused to trail his glossed eyes to the only one could ease his malcontent, "...We... You even..." _'...kissed me' _was what he was dying to blurt out, but it remained stuck to his tongue. It was probably for good reason that it remained that way.

"Look..." Zwei started. He raised both hands and rested them atop Patroklos' shoulders. They both ignored the tattered armor; all that mattered were the other. "I don't know what happened 'last night' because I wasn't there. And no matter how much you want to believe it, I didn't come to see you. I went for a walk alone."

"..." The youth nodded; even though he strongly disagreed, his body understood. Zwei resumed, "Whatever we did... it has to be all in your head. Maybe it was a dream?"

" _" A hidden name tumbled from the boy without a second thought, "That's your real name. You told it to me when I was half asleep! You don't remember that?"

Not understanding, Zwei blinked, but stared Patroklos square in the eyes. The boy was crestfallen; he had to be telling the truth– his truth; the only 'truth' he witnessed and knew of from his point of view. Too bad Zwei didn't share the same. And while the name was not a widely known one, it still wasn't one of his, "...Patroklos..." he breathed. The quality of that sound tampered the blonde's emotions and he swallowed hard. Just then, a distinct smell lifted into the air of which was caught by Zwei, and Viola, only. She knew exactly what it was, but Zwei still couldn't place it. And because of that, he didn't have an answer. He was distracted, "What... is that..."

"What?"

"That scent..."

Patroklos blanched. More memories were uncovered unintentionally and he was at his limit's end, "... Zwei..."

"What?"

"You're an IDIOT! You are IMPOSSIBLE right now!" Patroklos shouted, shoving the large comforting hands off of him. He forced himself to a stand and ran out of the hut. "Okay, we'll talk later! Right?" Zwei called, cupping his hands to his mouth and returning to his feet. His ears twitched as he thought he detected the retort of "MORON" resonating in the distance from the fled adolescent. While he seemed calm about everything, beneath that tough skin worry and guilt had begun to brew. He wished he knew what Patroklos meant. But what happened between them really was just a dream. Once he and Viola were again alone, he shook his head, "What's gotten into that kid?"

"You, apparently," she returned with a hint of a smile. To such an offbeat statement, Zwei slowly turned to her with the most dumbfounded expression his handsome features had ever exhibited, "I... don't follow..."

"The clouded wine has overturned. The sun and moon will no longer melt into one."

"...Uh... Clarification, please?"

A flicker of genuine happiness expressed over face before returning to its neutral deadpan as she spoke, "Because of your interference, the devastation of humanity and all life on this planet has been alleviated."

"Um. What? What does humanity have to do with anything?" He folded his arms over his chest.

"I had once foreseen that boy and his sister creating a family of their own. If that were to happen, all races of this planet would succumb to their children's rule. Malfested. All of them."

"Uh, children? Patroklos and Pyrrha? But they're siblings!" Suddenly, he felt rather foolish for the joke he made about Achilles weeks before.

"Yes. Had you not affected that boy as you have with your presence and life, the two of them would have remained confined to themselves, their own company and have no other choice but to procreate in order to extend their family. Thanks to you, that boy has someone to look up to. He has also stopped thinking of his sister in those ways."

"But... I didn't do any—what...! Does this have something to do with what Patroklos meant by me being there last night?"

"Yes."

"Well, what was it? Spit it out, will you?"

"He had a dream that the two of you had mated."

Mated? Zwei had to shake his head and look her way twice to make sure this conversation wasn't some kind of cognitive encounter as well, "...You mean we..."

"Yes," she eyed him directly; her usual stare was intensified in its eeriness. Because he was still greatly confused taking in such information, she decided to feed him the news in a raw state, "Since you made love to him in his illusions, he and his sister will not make any Malfested children. You have changed his mind and he is attracted to you in the most intimate of natures," The corners of her mouth upturned briefly yet again, "Aren't you happy? You have helped save the world again for those with tainted blood like us."

"... …. ..." Zwei had no idea what to say to that, let alone how to successfully absorb the news. Him? Sleep with Patroklos? Most intimate of natures? The ideas were farfetched- but not impossible. He had already been kissed by the blonde once, even if it was by accident so... Wait–why was he even considering it?

The very next second a rather unamused Viola was kicked out of the hut.

OoO

END

Question! Who noticed that during the dream smex scene, Zwei wasn't given any personal thoughts? Since it was Pat's dream, I figured he wouldn't really know all of what his other would be thinking. So anything that referred to Pat during it was done in narrative.

Special trivia!

-The theme for these two is Shakira's Did It Again that I mentioned in the last chapter. It just works for these two with me...at least the flavor of the beat does.

-The "I'm pretty sure that's an exit" bit was inspired from a yaoi manga I read (THANX MOON) some time ago with a similar line. I thought it was really funny and could be something Pat would protest about.

-"Something extra" is a joke in reference to one of Zwei's kick moves in the game. During it, he says this goofy line lol And I couldn't help myself wording Pat's super as a critical edge. I almost put in terms like "just guard" and "guard impact" and mention the advantages of them...especially with the just guard but who would wanna listen to that in a yaoi story eh?

-The list of songs I had on loop for this chapter mainly consisted of "The Perfect Rule" from YGO Duelist of the Roses; Crystal Kay, BoA, and Verbal's Kozm remix of "Universe" and for when the smex scene really heated up...lol YGO Duel Transer's Final Boss Theme. Yes. That's right. I had them smexing to a final boss theme from a games about cards on a system that's prone to becoming an instant brick from even the tiniest power outage. Lol Eh, the beat was nice n I was feelin it!

-Due to 17th century limitations, I think the only other lubricant that was used was olive oil or something like that. But since I wasn't sure...Pat had to supply his own haha...

-I did Virgo research for Pat, and I think Zwei may be a Cancer if not, possibly a Taurus.

-The original idea for this chapter was to have Pat know that he was dreaming and imagine Zwei rollin up in his crib to tease him about who had the most "inches" and he'd get smexed from that...but I like the "fake out" better...

-Oh yeah...the "scent" of Pat's is him getting aroused. It makes his natural body scent stronger.

I think that's it? I dun wanna make no sequel! Unless maybe sumthin happens in the SoulCal universe that inspires me to the point of mandatory-ness. Just imagine them getting together and smexing for real or sumthin.

Peace!

-Mel


End file.
